Thoughts of Static
by xanthofile
Summary: [slash] Two brothers with more in common than previously thought. Of all the things to happen because of the growing threat of one's insanity. Because the Weasley family just works that way. RWPW [one shot]


well, first things first: this is dedicated to **FallenShateiel**, for being the one who got me into finishing this. it's been in its early stages since the beginning of **Just Friends**, which exists in a seperate parallel than this fic. this takes place in the summer between Ron's sixth and seventh year. alludes to what happened to Sirius as a catalyst to the happenings of this. **smut does take place**.

and yes, it's incest. i'm known for it on my fictionpress account, so why not have one here too? and forgive me for going back and forth between present and past tense.

for those of who who follow **Just Friends**, by the way: i am working on it, but i'm always so slow. it'll get out, hopefully sooner than later, but who knows.

_Sunday, 4 June, 2006. 12:43 am._

* * *

"Why? Why let the prat do it?" 

I stared past one swelled eyelid at a moving poster up on my wall, one from several years ago; sometimes, I wish I could go back to that guy I used to be, the one who put that up and fell asleep knowing that it would be the first thing I'd see when I'd open my eyes in the morning. I don't even know what I look for in the mornings anymore…well, I know what I _wish_ I could see in the morning these days. I wish I could roll over out of sleep and see his face, to get out of bed and walk down the stairs and greet him in the kitchen, warm and genuine as he leans in and presses a kiss to my temple or my forehead. We could never do that; the only thing that's keeping me here…alive…right this very moment is the thought that someday, my wish will be a possibility. I'm alive right now so that I can eventually have that kind of wonderful, when we'll be allowed to love.

Until then…I have to be _here_, nursing my swollen eye and the knot on the back of my skull from where one of the twins had shoved me hard and I'd knocked against a wooden piece of furniture. The cut and swollen lower lip came when the other twin lost his head when I had told them not to hurt him; his fist had flown out and decked me, guilty even as I spat the blood from between my teeth. They'd thrown me from the room at that point, and proceeded to knock the living shit from him, ganging up on the unresisting man I'm in love with. And they sent him away.

"Ron!"

I jerked automatically, looking over at my best friend, who's eyes were stormy and confused behind those glasses of his.

"Why won't you _talk _to me? You've not talked all year! All I want…is just to hear your voice to let me know you're ok. Whatever this is, whatever that bastard has done to you…just _talk_."

I stared for a long moment, seeing the storm crashing in those eyes, behind that gaze, and then I turned my face away with quiet resignation.

"I don't _get_ you anymore."

We're so far apart Harry, but I'm still surprised that you see it now, when you never did before. You weren't the one to change…well, maybe it was the both of us. We dealt with shock and grief differently; Sirius may not have been very close to me, but he was the first person I knew _personally_ to have died. One minute he was there, running and fighting…and then he's gone, and Harry was almost destroyed. I've grown silent since then, withdrawing more into my thoughts than I ever did before, while my best friend sought to fill the painful silences within with the activity and company of others. He gravitated towards where the people were during school, the opposite direction I was heading; no wonder that gap began and grew through time. It's not that I didn't want to be there with him, with everyone…but I felt broken inside. I still feel broken sometimes, even though…he…was able to help.

"Fine, you don't want to talk to me, then be alone!" I sat there as Harry got to his feet in a huff and exited my room, the silence falling down in drifts until I felt alone again.

"I never stopped him because I didn't _want_ to." And my voice fell against the quiet, causing me to wonder if I'd been able to summon the strength to actually _speak_ it like I thought I had. Not that it matters, not anymore.

--- --- --- (Two months previous)

It was meant to be different; I thought it would be just like it used to be. But coming home hadn't changed the way I feel inside, the growing sense of numbness and gradually floating away from whoever I used to be. I understand that I'm not myself, that I've changed so drastically, and I ache to be back to the way I _used_ to be. Late at night, I lay awake and cry tears of frustration over being able to _see_ what's happening to me when no one else can, when I feel that I'm slowly going barmy and nobody has noticed. How can they not know! I space out for hours at a time, keep to myself and think my endless circles of thoughts. These thoughts are strange and foreign and they frighten me by their powerful grip upon my entire being, but I can't make them stop. Nothing makes them stop.

I think them until my breath comes in sharp gasps, pressure building up in my skull as I perceive that the very walls are coming in to crush me into a bloody stain, that I'll fall asleep and then I'll die a violent and painful death; and no one will miss me. It's what jerks me upright and out of bed, stumbling my feet into loosely tied shoes even as I feel the doorknob against the grooves of my palm and I slip out of my bedroom into the dark of the surrounding house.

My breathing always calms as I sneak down the stairs, avoiding the ones that make obvious creaks, all the way down to the ground floor and out the back door. And it's so dark, but I can still see with the stars and the moon up in the night sky overhead, and then I'll wander through the yard and gardens and hop over the back wall to the surrounding fields. I walk until I can't anymore, and then I sink down to the ground, nestled amongst the tall field grass as I stare up at the starry sky.

And sometimes I forget where I am and I fall asleep.

It was only a matter of time before someone snarked me out; Percy just happened to be the first one to catch me on one of the occasions where I had to sneak back into the house early in the morning. He was up and dressed for his Ministry work, drinking his newly-habitual coffee at the long wooden table in the kitchen when I stumbled inside, seeing my older brother and coming to an abrupt halt. He stared for a long while, keeping me immobile until our Mother bustled in and blinked upon seeing me up.

"Up so early? I've not knocked up breakfast yet."

"He just came in from out back; I reckon he spent the night out there." Fucking Percy the ever-living Prat.

My thoughts knocked around and began to buzz even as Mum blew up at me; I alternated between indifference and bitter anger at my brother for ratting me out. I only knew when the tirade was finished when she turned away and began banging pans together in her irritation, allowing me to stalk from the kitchen and upstairs, where I collapsed upon my bed, untied shoes and all.

After a few moments, I lazily took the time to toe off the shoes and let them land where they fell, before settling my face more comfortably into my pillow; my mind still buzzing, and making me feel tired.

A creak just outside the door announced his arrival just moments before he pushed open my door and stepped inside, quiet as he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, my back to him. Nothing but the noises from the attic.

Not until his voice finally came, "You ever need to talk about what's wrong, I'll be sure to listen." My fingers clenched on instinct, rustling my blanket and giving away that I _am_ awake, but he didn't seem to mind that I'm not talking.

"Keep it in mind, Ron."

And he was leaving, my eyes open as I heard the door shut behind him, leaving me wondering how he could have noticed when nobody else has. Or maybe he's the only one to say anything; he never could keep his mouth shut, could he? Growing up third in our family, he'd always let known of his complaints and gripes, but he's always strove so hard to live up to family expectations. Percy; he's had to fight to be perfect, to gain what Bill and Charlie had always managed to achieve without effort. Staying up late into the night working on a project, he's always been so reserved even within our own family. But he sees everything, doesn't he? He knows everything because he _wants_ to.

--- --- ---

Fingers tapped against my cheek, forcing a sleepy mumble from my lips as I turned away from the touch, breathing slowly as I tried to fall more deeply into sleep.

"Ronald."

"Bloody 'ell, what're you doing here?" I didn't want to open my eyes, but forced them to do so and staring up at what should be a starry sky, but it's instead blocked by my older brother's neutral face. Oh hell, I fell asleep outside again. He stayed quiet as I jerked myself up on my palms and then upright, head still fuzzy with sleep.

"Mum worries about you when you do this." Calm and matter-of-fact.

"I think I'm crazy." The words popped out of my mouth without thought, and I was slightly disturbed at how easy it had been to say it out loud and _believe_ in what I was saying…to Percy, no less.

"You wouldn't feel crazy if you really were." I blinked and looked at him, that same calm man I've always known.

"Are you sure?" I _need_ his opinion; he'd never color it differently if he thought me insane, if I had any chance at being crazy.

"I think you're suffering from a traumatic experience."

"So…I _am_ crazy?"

"No."

I'm smiling…so why do I feel this burning behind my eyes and that ache in the back of my throat? I'm beyond relieved, shocking my brother when I launch myself at him and bury my face at the base of his throat, squeezing out that burn from my eyes and getting him a bit damp. "Thank you, Percy."

His fingers hesitantly find the nape of my neck as he murmurs a welcome back to me; the smell of clean skin and the distant scent of antiperspirant are both comforting to me. His smells remind me of lying in bed after I've dried from a shower, bundled up in sheets as I breathe in the smells of myself being clean, of being comfortable and warm. It's not like the way the Twins always smell like they've burnt something, or the way Hermione smells faintly like the rose water that Mum uses more liberally. And Harry…my best friend has always smelled of dusty earth, even fresh from the shower and still dripping water from his unruly hair; he's always reminded me of our gardens.

Neville smells like dirt a lot too, but usually only after he's spent quite a bit of time out in the greenhouses or someone tripped him into a patch of bare soil. I like that smell…but it's never comforted me like Percy's is doing now.

He let me stay as I was for a long time, until long after my tears had gone and left me intoxicated with trying to figure out what I'm feeling now, this strange new emotion that I'd thought to have left behind me ages ago. Years ago. Before Hogwarts, when I was four or five, Percy had been my steadfast playmate; the twins always had themselves, and Percy had been the only odd boy out as well. We had been attached at the hip back then, until he turned eleven and entered school, already striving to live up to our older brothers. His drive distanced him from me…from everyone, as he fought to keep up with our parent's expectations of great Weasleys.

I felt myself beginning to nod off again still leaning against him, jerking awake just slightly and causing me to feel the odd rumble of his quiet laughter within his chest.

"To bed."

I didn't protest his declaration, just nodded and pulled away and got to my feet, my hand coming out to help pull him up with me as well. And I didn't relinquish his hand, and he didn't make me, just walked along as we made our way through the chilly night air; it feels like it may rain again. Not that I care, not right now.

--- --- ---

It's nice to have someone 'on my side' for a change, someone who senses when I'm becoming overwhelmed and manages to find an excuse for me to leave gracefully. Percy willingly began to deflect for me, especially the Twins, who are wrapped up within themselves but their brazen enthusiasm for living sort of thrashes against anyone else in the vicinity. They often give me a headache.

About a week or so after the night Percy came out to get me during the night, I sleepily crawled from bed and stumbled down the stairs, nothing on my mind but wanting my brother's company; I know he gets up early in the mornings for the quiet before work. And true enough, he was sitting at the table, pointy chin in the palm of his hand as he stared blankly at his reflection in one of the windows; the world is still dark outside, and he had one lamp on, turning the kitchen dim and comfortable with the smell of his coffee.

"Nhm." It was a sleepy grunt, but it made him start, his chin leaving his palm as he turned to look at me, his face showing his surprise but an easy warmth was still evident. I came and sat across the table from him, drowsy enough to tuck my head against the curve of my elbow as I stared in his general direction.

"Why are you up so early?"

My shoulder moved slightly, accompanied with, "Dunno."

"Well…you want tea? I can get some water boiling for you…." He was already rising to his feet and moving over to the cupboards, and my fingers lazily floated from the table into the air as I replied, "No, coffee's fine, if there's some left."

"Hm."

My eyes drifted shut as my hand came back and rested against the back of my head, my cheek pressed against that curve in my elbow still. I listened to the clink of a mug, to the sound of liquid poured within it, his footfalls as he carried it back to the table and sat it before me.

My eyes opened now as I lazily sat a bit more upright, knowing that there was a red mark on my cheek from my earlier position, and my hair is a frightful mess, but it's not like he cares, I know he doesn't. He might say something about it if he knew anyone else was up, but we're the only ones awake (well, we'll not go into the thought of anything else), so I was comfortable in the knowledge that we're more relaxed. I spooned a bit of sugar into the inky liquid before taking a tentative sip, blanching slightly at the first of the bitter acridness.

"Strong." I murmured, and he gave a humorless type of smile that held more humor than it usually does, "Puts hair on your chest."

"You want me to have a hairy chest?"

It was an off-remark, but he still twitched slightly from the unexpectedness of it, before he came back with, "Perhaps not."

"I'll remember to shave, then." I don't know where this brazen talk is coming from…am I subtly _flirting_? No; of course I'm not…right? He knows I'm not flirting, because I'm _not_.

And he's not meaning it to be flirting when he smirked and casually remarked, "Careful around the nipples then."

He's not flirting, but my ears still turned red as my eyes narrowed, a spark of my old self coming back as I ground out, "Bugger _off_, will ya?"

"Strong words so early this morning! Are we needed to referee a brawl?" Jaunty words threw me off kilter, my eyes widening even as the Twins swooped into the kitchen, far too chipper for the sun to be barely making it's ascent outside. Where had the time gone with just the two of us?

"Ah, the stench of java…and what's this? Ronnikins partaking of the bean? What ever is the world coming to? Corrupted youth…next thing you know, he'll be dressing just _so_ and talking just _so_ and inserting that stick up his arse like a certain brother we all know and dearly 'love'. Two Percival's running amok, the _horror_!"

"Piss off." A disheartened mumble, my fingers were turning white around my coffee cup. They ignored me, digging more jibes about Percy's demeanor as he sat there and just took it, not even growing angry like he used to do. I was helpless with that irrational anger that has swept me before, turning me against Harry any number of times when I thought myself to be in the wrong, but this time…it's for my brother's behalf.

There's a rational part of me that says to let it be, that he can take care of himself, that it's not my place…but that part crumbled when the mug jerkily tipped over as I shot to my feet, blood rushing to pound at my temples as I barked, "BUGGER OFF!"

"Ronald!" Percy's voice was sharp and authoritative, and the sting of it caused me to give off a wounded gasp, that irrational part of me seeing his frown and believing the very worst. And I didn't stop to think about how it looked for my face to scrunch up as I pushed from the table and bolted from the kitchen, fleeing out the back door even as I heard my name being called from three different throats. So what, let them eat shit, for all I care.

It took four tries to hoist my wound-up frame over the stone wall, falling heavily on the other side and ignoring my deep panting even as I scrambled to my feet and continued escaping…whatever it was I was trying to escape. My body was screaming betrayal, that just because I had thought him to be my friend, he was still the prat I'd always known, never on my side except for in pity. He _pitied_ me; this thought jerked me into a stop, falling to my knees and jerking as I tried to hold back the choking wails of pity for myself, for this tearing sensation deep-seated within my chest. Maybe I really am crazy, maybe this is all in my mind and I'm making a fucking bastard out of myself for over reacting to nothing, but that doesn't stop it from _hurting_. It hurts, this supposed betrayal.

Someone was calling my name…several someones…but I curled down into the ground, hidden completely by the copse of woods separating me from them. I'm here, and they're not, so for now…I'm safe.

--- --- ---

I lay in the dirt for hours, until rain began to fall and I grew too chilled to suffer anymore, dragging my body from the ground and stumbling back to the house, knowing that he was gone, the Twins were gone; only Ginny and Mum would be home. I'll be in for deep shit for coming in muddy and sopping wet, but my mind hissed static instead of caring. I hear a funny popping fizz in my head, as if it's on stand by and just waiting for the right stimulus. I don't care, I don't. Really.

The house was silent and I just _felt_ that it was empty; I'm by myself, for once. I shuffled through the kitchen and then heavily made my way up the stairs, stopping off in the bathroom to peel off my clothing and stand in the shower as I let water drown out the static. My toes and fingers were wrinkled by the time I came back to myself enough to turn off the water again, not sure how long I'd been staring there, but knowing enough that it was probably an hour or so. I continued up the stairs lugging sopping clothing, half naked…and that's how I crawled into bed, leaving the wet clothes in a pile by the door as I wrapped up my wet skin with clinging sheets and I fell asleep.

--- --- ---

I like to think that I had been making progress during that week of thinking I had Percy on my side, of making a gradual recovery. But whatever had happened to me during that day outside had plunged me into a regression, far more severe than I'd been in the first place. I felt myself become a zombie, staring off into space even when talked to; Mum wrote it off as me not feeling well, especially as I still ate heartily enough that she wasn't worried. To her, I'm only ill when I refuse food, until then I'm perfectly fine. Maybe she doesn't want to take into account that her youngest son might be crazy, that I'll end up in St. Mungo's just like Neville's parents; they'll come to visit me and I'll give Mum candy wrappers and hum tunelessly to myself as I piss all over my bed sheets. That will be me, insane and enjoying myself, not aware anymore that I was ever anything different. She doesn't want to think that, but I think about it, I think it a lot. Over and over, my thoughts will loop endlessly out of control; nothing I can do will bring them back until they've run their course, which can last for hours at a time.

Two weeks passed of this; two weeks of me withdrawing from whatever you could call sanity; or even humanity, at this point. Maybe I'm turning into a fucking animal. I'm turning into something else anyways, and once I hit a certain mark, I'll be gone forever, my mind disappearing down the shitter, expelled from my body like everything else.

-

Dinner chatter washed over me as I steadfastly shoved food from the plate to my mouth, chewing and swallowing and putting in more to chew and swallow. I didn't taste it, didn't enjoy it. Didn't know that I was eating. At some point, I stared down at the wood grain, seeing the immenseness of the swirls and random patterns in the wood, so random….

…Without warning, my eyes saw not the table, but darkness and somebody just before me. My mind scattered in fifty million directions at once as I panicked, my hands clawing out and grasping a hold of a soft shirt, warm strength behind it. And there was stinging on my face, burning wounds to both cheeks, enough that I gasped and yanked my hands away from the shirt and to my face, tears unheeded as they streaked downwards. Fingers closed onto my wrists, and I shrieked, frightened beyond what little of my wits I possessed, until I was pulled against that chest, my face cradled into a warm neck, a hand gently holding the back of my skull to keep me in place.

Percy, it's Percy. I began to tremble with the aftershocks of my fright, but he just held me close and soothed me by petting my hair over and over again, the repetitive motion easing me into relaxing.

"M'sorry I hit you." He suddenly mumbled, and it clicked that the pain on my face was from him slapping me more than once. I hadn't felt it, it hadn't snapped me from…whatever it was that I'd been in. I jerked backwards, not having the chance to get very far from the warmth of his body before his hands had a hold of my upper arms, keeping me from retreating any farther as his concerned gaze pierced mine.

"I'm **_crazy_**!"

I was breaking apart again, screaming about my insanity, blaming him for _lying _to me when he'd said that I wasn't crazy before; it was his tears that silenced me, seeing them well up and glide down his face, the unhidden anguish in his eyes. His arms wound around me, crushing me against his chest again as I felt it spasm with silent tears, his breaths whistling sobs of helplessness. And I let him crush me like this and felt…almost normal again. As if he can block out those thoughts that were destroying me just seconds ago, those self-destructive thoughts.

I went almost boneless against him, and his arms wound around me on instinct, until I righted myself again, pulling back enough that I could see his face. Or maybe it was just because I wanted to lean in and kiss him…because that's what I did. He froze against my lips, but it didn't really deter me; I carried through with the kiss until I was done, pulling back and laying my head against his shoulder again.

"R-Ron…." He sounds so uncertain of himself, for once in his life he sounds shaken and frightened.

"Hm?"

He shivered when I gave a satisfied sigh and lazily put my arms around his neck, breathing deep of that same scent from before, the smell of clean skin and antiperspirant. His fingers went up and disengaged my arms from him, pushing me back as I calmly returned his fevered gaze.

"Is it…okay?" Voice soft and unsure, blatantly pleading with me, spiking that nearly-forgotten warmth back into place, the one I'd been so sure had been just his pity. It wasn't _pity_.

"It is." I was whispering, actually tilting my face when he came in and pressed a replying kiss to my mouth, gently, as if he'd hurt me with his restrained eagerness. So I pushed against his mouth, applying the pressure to open my lips, inviting him to take it. And he did, taking control of the kiss as he took it to the next level; the last of my thoughts of insanity fizzled out as thoughts of his tongue replaced them, his tongue against mine and against the roof of my mouth and teeth. This is Percy, kissing me like a forgotten lover, a _missed_ lover.

How long has he wanted this? How long have I wanted this? More than the past ten minutes; this is deep-rooted in my belly, in my chest, this want of my brother. I just don't know how long, when it began. Years, maybe. Who knows, who cares.

---

A night where I woke from a drowse to hear a light step just beside the bed, a smile curving my lips when a weight descended down besides me and we allowed ourselves to enjoy the bliss of privacy. Fired kisses, at ease with our lust, not embarrassed or unsure of it any longer, not anymore. Not since the night he told me of his love without words, kissing my hip and the crease of my inner thigh before tasting of me for the first time. I can remember the tightly encasing heat, the way it'd made me arc up against his steady hold, quivering beneath his learning technique of taking cues from my reactions. Not when I pushed him off and forced him to quiet his hurt protests by shoving him into a somewhat lying position as I did the same as he'd done to me, eager to have him curse and shudder, like I had. And he'd done both and more, tensing until he shoved me off him as well, rolling on top of me and thrusting our groins together, swallowing my low cry of exaltation at the way we slid. His palms moving to hold up his upper body as he moved, still thrusting down against me and making me see white haze encroaching across my field of vision.

Our first consummation, so to speak. The second one, the _real _one came later, a week or so of learning the other's body, of hiding the change of our relationship from everyone else.

Ginny might know though, Percy mentioned that she saw him when he was returning to his room to change for work in the early morning; she might have thought that he was returning from the lavatory, but she's far too bright for something as innocuous as all that. If she suspects, she kept it to herself.

-

I made Percy someone else; I made him loose and…more of the Percy I used to know. There was an afternoon in which Ginny and I were given the task to de-gnome the gardens, and I taught her the pastime of sneaking up and diving under bushes, of wasting more time than getting anything done. We ended up filthy and in good spirits; turning at one point, I caught sight of Percy, my lover, standing by the back door with his arms loosely crossed over his chest, still dressed in his good work robes. And my grin was wide and genuine, even though his voice was harsh as he admonished the both of us for mucking about.

Ginny had run off to clean up before Mum could catch her, but I'd stayed crouched down in the mud and grass, smiling as he came over to stand next to me. And mischievous, I'd smeared a generous handful of mud all down the front of his robes, shocking him into rigidity. Until he'd pounced on me, throwing us into the clinging mud as we wrestled for a moment before I managed to wiggle free, shooting to my feet and gleefully inviting him to chase me if he dared.

And when he caught me, I was shoved to the wall, his breath panting against my skin as we stared at each other, there in the shade of the trees and the house.

"Mud all over your face, Mum's going to have a bird." His voice was dry, and I asked, "…You'll wait for me next year, won't you? When I'm at school?"

"For as long as it takes." Leaning in for the sealing of his promise, gentle before that carnal switch flipped inside the both of us, as it does whenever we get into a situation of closeness like this.

Tongues flashing and heavy breathing, and the calm voice of our sister, "What would you do if Mum saw this? Or Dad for that matter, hm?"

We jerked apart, faces burning under the level stare of Ginny. She must have known then, she's certainly not surprised by what she's just broken up. We should have learned though, about the precarious nature of our relationship, of trying to keep it hidden in a household such as ours. Should have known what would happen.

--- --- ---

As it was, we didn't learn.

Because the Twins opened Percy's door after dinner a few days before I was to head back to term, and found me on my knees before my lover, his fingers in my hair as I sought to drive him crazy. We hadn't been careful.

And as a result, I ended up with a swollen eye, lip, and a lump on the back of my head. What Percy received was much worse; they thought the worst of it, that I'd been forced into the position, that I was somehow brainwashed by my 'evil' brother. The Twins broke him before Ginny could run for help; I'd been numb as I lay in a heap outside in the hall, trying to comprehend that we had been _caught_.

In the end, he ended up in St. Mungo's, and then…he had to find somewhere to stay. They say that he's not to contact me; I'm not allowed to contact him.

Nobody talks about it, but Ginny knows that I'm broken beneath this silence I've retreated into. She crawls into bed with me often, holding me as I cramp up with the pain of wanting to scream, of wanting them to _understand_. But they don't want to, so I won't try to make them.

The only thing that makes this better right now is the thought that after one more year of schooling, I can be happy again. And maybe we can write somehow at Hogwarts, Ginny will help me. She doesn't exactly get it, but she knows, she's seen.

I'm in love.

* * *

A/N: there you have it. not the best, but i'm a avid romantic, through and through. 


End file.
